


Hope

by CitrusVanille



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Gen, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:14:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CitrusVanille/pseuds/CitrusVanille
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heero Yuy's musings on hope.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

I don’t believe in hope.

Hope is cruel and spiteful. It makes us think things will work out all right, that somehow, it will be different, that this time life will turn out well. It makes us think we can be happy, that maybe we deserve to have a fairy tale ending. But even if we do deserve it, we won’t get it. Life doesn’t work that way. Fate is miserable, and misery loves company.

And those times when we give into hope, when we let ourselves trust in some kind of good, when we have faith that, against all odds, all that is good and true and love will come right in the end… those times are the worst. Because when we give in it takes us over. It becomes a part of us. And we want it more than anything. We cling to it, pray for it, plead, cry, beg on our knees that for once, we don’t hope in vain. We live for it, breathe for it, suffer for it, die for it. And when we lose it, when all our fears come true, when our hope shatters into fragments so small we can barely see them, let alone try to put them back together again, our entire world comes crashing down. And we know we have only ourselves to blame. We ourselves are at fault for letting down our defenses, for being too weak to resist the temptation of hope. We must bear the responsibility on our own, for no one else is culpable.

And the irony is, despite everything, we want to hope. We long to give into any tiny sliver, any little sparkle, any gleam of light we can see beckoning to us in the distance. No matter how vindictive hope is, no matter how malicious, we go crawling back, supplicants beseeching the cold lover of Fate to take us back, to throw us some bone we can wrap ourselves around and hold on to. We would give anything just to hope. It’s nothing short of masochistic, but we can’t seem to live without it.

The funny part is, we know that every time we hope, we will hurt, and that every time the pain will be worse. We know that Fate is a sadistic bitch and that no matter what we do, we’ll never change that. The only emotions that Fate encourages are hate and desire for vengeance, and even then, she uses them to destroy us. But when other emotions knock – happiness, love – that’s when we want to answer, and when we do, that’s when we fall. When we see the hope shining in another’s eyes, when we feel it trying to get into our own hearts, we know it is better to crush it at once than to let it grow, because it hurts less to end something and lose it at the beginning than when you have hoped for a long time. But we don’t want to end it. We don’t want to stomp out the tiny flame that needs so little to grow. We want to nurture it, bring it to a full blaze, and warm our cold hands in the heat. Because that heat is what makes our lives worth living. That violent, horrible, wicked hope that burns us up and consumes us is what keeps us going from day to day. Without it, we’re nothing more than dead shells.

So when I see that little glimmer of hope, twinkling in your eyes, brightening your smile, I know what I should do. I know it is foolish to let you believe in hope, as it would be foolish for me. It would be selfish of me to give in, to allow you the pleasure of such a harmful emotion. It would be cruel. But the way you look… I don’t want to be the one to ruin that. The way hope gives you joy… it makes my heart bleed and begin to melt… And it would take so little from me for that elation to give you wings for just a little longer. All I would have to do is give in, nod, maybe return your smile, and you would soar, flying with the angels above the clouds. And as heartless as it would be for me to permit you such ecstasy that leads only to devastation and agony, as pitiless and egocentric as that would make me, when I glimpse that spark in your eyes, I know I can do nothing else.

I don’t believe in hope. But I want to.


End file.
